For Me, For You, For Us(Completed)

Thirds

"Bad things come in thirds", I remember my grandmother used to say that to me when I was a kid. It never made sense to me, I always thought bad things came when they did and could not be predicted by any pattern or event. However, now I'm not so sure.
First I literally ran into Dan, then I kissed him, and now here he is, lying on my once colorful duvet that is now stained with blood.
So yes. Bad things come in thirds.
I sign as a run the wet washcloth over his features, trying to find the face that consumes my every thought, through all the blood and swelling.
It's been about a half an hour since the fight and he still hasn't woken up. I thought about taking him to the hospital but I don't want him to get into any trouble for helping me or anything. God knows he probably doesn't even want to be associated with me.
He flinches as I run the cloth over the cut on his dark eyebrow, I still, not wanting to hurt him any more than he already is, but he soon relaxes and falls back into his troubled sleep.
Before I even realize what I'm doing, I reach out and lightly touch his cheek, trying not to agitate the already forming bruise.
I run my fingers down his skin, feeling it's softness under my hand.
I freeze when he suddenly shifts underneath me, but all he does is lightly turn his face into my palm, almost like he is seeking my comfort.
I oblige and start to run my fingertips over his face, lightly tracing the shape of his nose and the softness of his full lips. I reach up and run my fingers threw his bloody hair, which still somehow manages to feel soft under my hand.
He whimpers as I withdraw my hand. His face turning towards the area where my hand was. Looking for comfort and getting nothing.
I sit back in my seat, winching as the metal cuts into my sore body.
I pick up my sketchbook, which I always have sitting beside my bed, and look up at the boy in front of me and just let my pencil fly.